San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-04-15


ed by gray clouds Of muslin, and crowned
with fair hair.
Was that little Silyl-that hlnwn-cycd
sylph-that radiant young creature with
the radiant smilel
sand was that Perciyal." thourLt Sihyl
as quickly-"that magnificent foreign
looking soldier, with his beautiful dark
tints and eyes that seemed TO burn and
glow in his wan fareg'
The cousins held each others lands in
silence for a moment, and suddenly as
they looked into each others faces they
both turned pale.
Such summer as that was comes only
once in lifetime. Perhaps, If anything
could have added, in his mothers and ST.
byPs heart, to the joy Of Percivars return
it was his need Of little womanly nurs-
ing. He was no longer i'll; he only need
ed TO be petted; and, good naturcd RS Of
old, the young man resigned himself like
hero, and submitted Ia the tenderest
treatment without murmur.
Perhaps he even exaggerated his weak
ness a little, seeing that Sihyl was always
ready with her strong young arm for him
to lean upon when he took his daily stroll
in the sunshiny garden. 1t was so sweet
TO be waited upon by her, TO have cool
drinks brought to him by her as he lay
on the lawn under the shade Of the clms,
to be read TO and talked to and worshipped
from morning till night.
The young fellows eyes moistened at
times when he thought of these two wo-
men and their love for him and he would
declare angrily to himself that no man
was worthy place ia such pure hearts,
except perhaps through the knowledge of
| his own unwOrthiness.
Percival was not a bad fellow. He had
caused his mother no worse pain than all
women have to endure whose dearest are
| gone from them into the world.
Lady Annals sad face grew bright and
tender as she watched the cousins walk
| ing together sitting together, and talking
| talking perpetually to e: III other. All
| her misfortunes had not made her world
ly-wise. She thought it a pretty sight,
whereas it would have caused her mo-
| ther's-the Countess's-hair to stand on
| end with horror.
Percival used TO talk to his mother
about Sibyfs sweetness and girlish lowell
| ness. As he grew stronger and his two
| nurses less obdurate, he went about the
village with his young cousin, and learned
something of what her life had been since
he went away, and with what unaffected
| liking and esteem she was regarded by
every one. high and low, at lockwood.
Hers had been such n modest and sim
pie existence. She had lived so little for
herself, so much for others Pleased with
the pleasure her beauty gave to those
around her, seeming to care little about it
for its own sake, Pcrcival thought; and
this sweet Inconsistencies was in his
eyes one of her greatest charms. She
was as happy, healthy. frank, as a child,
and she was as endearing. as the woman
Hest of women.
Indeed Sibyl had known from the mo-
ment of their reunion that she loved her
cousin Percival, not as n cousin. or brother
as she used to call him TO Mark Breton,
but with the truest and most sacred love
of ALL
She did not ask herself whether he re-
turned the feeling. 1t was Joy enough to
love him. And the idea of marrying him
had never even remotely entered her
head. Sibyl had never thought-as the
most pure-minded girl might have done
without great harm-of marriage as her
probable lot in life. On the contrary, it
had seemed to her that she should al
ways be needed at the Rectory and she
had not contemplated the possibility of
leaving LadyAnna-Percivars mother and
hers-alone in her old age.
But just yet there was no thought of
separation. The joy of their meeting was
still warm in all their hearts.
1t was midsummer throughout the land
and Sibyl and Pcrcival were gathering
their roses, and leaving the winter. that
was only too surely coming with all its
cares and pains, to take care of itself.
The cousins had so much to talk about ;
it seemed that their exchange of conf
dences and "reminiscences would never
come to an end. Sibyl had to hear all
about Percivars life in India, and espe-
cially about all the girls he had met. She
thought he was very good to be so fond
of her still, when he had met so many
that we've better educated. more accom-
plishcd, more suited in every way, to sat-
isfy his fat:dious taste.
The poor girl had never felt her own
| driIcirEri2s in thr>, 1..iTt jculaIS so keenly
as one evening, when Percival. feeling
very lazy, and anxious to add a GROWING
charm to delicious hour of dusk and
whispered talk, called to Sibyl from his
sofa by the open window, and begged her
to play him "a bit of Schumann."
81 am so sorry, DEAR" the girl said,
flushing; II can't play"
"What a good tor-nothing child" said
Captain Lansing tend"rIy; and then, see
ing her distress, he laughed with ready
gOod-nature, and declared that most fell
lows would look upon her incapacity as a
charm the more; he asked her too, in a
whisper, as she drew nearer, to come and
talk to him instead, and so make music
in another way.
But Sibyl was hardly consoled. She re-
solved silently that when Percival was
gOne-the time was so far off still that
she could think of it with comparative
cheerfulness-she would get little Miss
Saxon. who played the organ at st. Bar
TO Do CO5ltblued.l